Gossip & the Devil

check in | put out

[Disclaimer: this post will be a scrapbook of pictures. This is an entirely "checking-in" post and will likely sound schizophrenic.]

In short: It has been busy these last few weeks. So busy in fact that when I looked at the date of my last post I nearly fainted. My apologies for making you wait. Bated breath, and all that.

In long: I’ve been back and forth between sanity and insanity these last few weeks and there isn’t a whole lot I can put to paper [or screen] at the moment. I’m working my ass off trying to get the re-launch of [modern.orphan.designs.] off the ground but as a one-woman operation I’m starting to feel the effects. I gave myself a lengthy-yet-reasonable time table in which to get all of these designs up [including my fucking book, The Rough Chronicles of Bipolar Romance, which needs to see the light of day now that it's finally here] but there are things hindering me from doing so. But never fear, the same time frame is in place and M.O.D. should have a re-launch sometime in the next month. [Don't forget to sign up for the G&D Feed, or sign up with your email using the M.O.D. site or the right hand side of this screen, so you'll know exactly when M.O.D. re-launches and get your limited, 1st edition copy of TRCOBR!]

I’m also trying to attend the annual Nimrod Literary Conference coming up in October, but between the recent job loss, hospital stays and lack of launching M.O.D., the money situations looking a little dire. I’ll never understand why the entrance fees are so fucking expensive. Since “Orphan” is the key word around here, if anyone has some change they can throw into my proverbial velvet hat, please do so using the Paypal donation button to your right. Even $3 can help me go and attend classes to further my art, learn new techniques and refine my skills so that I can come and tell you for free on here.

There’s also a bit of news going on with myself and a few familiar faces you’ve seen around G&D – currently I’m working on a DIY Artbook Project with Natascha Artworx from Hamburg, Germany! This is a 100% DIY and made-with-love endeavor and, once finished will look fabulous! Miss N. sent me a few of her paintings in the mail and I was floored – she works a lot of the time in watercolor which is a medium I could never master in college. So, as soon as I get my parts done and send them off look for that in the near future!

In even more other news, I met up with Kill Hannah last week and managed to stay sober the entire time, thus eliminating my need for pictures-as-proof. Consider these pictures-for-pleasure. You might recognize this face from an interview I conducted about a month ago:

[On Kill Hannah's current tour with She Wants Revenge, Maddox is filling in for Dan Wiese who was married yesterday and by now is well on his way toward a honeymoon. Maddox has played in a handful of regionally successful acts including Miser and Jupiter Blue, with whom Kill Hannah have a long and sordid history. He also asked me to interview him so we'll see where that ends up. Hit me up M!]

The reason why this isn’t filed under “I just need the airfare [&] I’m gone” is because, while yes I funded my entire portion on change, the hotel stays were hardly 4-star and I wasn’t nearly so concerned with the amenities of the entire thing. The La Quinta in Dallas was decent, even though they fucked me on a smoking room and the Motel 6 in Austin had no carpet, the ugliest bedspread known to man, no hot water and the air conditioner leaked so badly when I arrived back to the motel clothing and shoes were soaked in freezing water.

For the rest of the story follow me on Twitter. It’s stuffed full of stories-in-pictures, sarcasm and hope[lessness].

In keeping with familiar faces, DJ/Producer John Bourke, who I’ve interviewed in the past had a release party at H. Wood for the new effort from Trash Yourself, titled “Forget It.” Find it, buy it and dance your ass off. Although John admitted Trash Yourself had never done an Oklahoma show before, that’s about to change on October 28th as their Myspace calender claims to have TY playing Robotic in Oklahoma City.

So, Orphans, now that you know what I’ve been up to your charge is to go out and find a great show to attend and tell me about it. Write an email, send pictures, poems or other forms of evidence – I don’t care. I’ll even post a couple on G&D. I want stories of sweat, screaming, catharsis and need. You could even check out She Wants Revenge/Kill Hannah on tour, or find Trash Yourself ‘s new CD and throw your own house party.

Report back and we’ll compare stories!

[gossip session] | dj/producer john bourke swaps Oklahoma City for New York City speed

A few weeks ago I touched on the idea that it takes very little to be called an “artist” anymore. In a world where you can learn virtually anything with the click of a button, the margin to distinguish between amateur and professional is quickly getting smaller. DJing in particular is an art full of misconceptions. While I would never call myself a DJ by any means (my play lists are as manic-depressive as I am), because of my network of friends I have a small working knowledge of what’s required to keep a party moving forward into the waiting arms of dawn. In this case one is required to own a mental Rolodex of songs spanning decades and a near spider-sense of anticipation for the sweating mass in front of you. Both DJ and dancer have a sort of symbiotic relationship—because they move you sustain momentum, and if they aren’t moving then you aren’t doing your job.

John Bourke is a 26 year-old DJ and producer based in Oklahoma City. He’s also one-half of the sleazy, electro-punk duo Trash Yourself (alongside another Oklahoma native, Heidi Cannon). Although he’s considerably younger than powerhouse DJs such as Tommie Sunshine and DJ AM, that hasn’t stopped him from playing some of the hottest parties of the year, including SXSW in Austin and Debonair Social Club’s 4-year anniversary with Dark Wave Disco in Chicago. Even mega-companies such as Warner Brothers and Capcom have licensed his services.

Not bad for a boy from a state where there isn’t much support for the electro/house scene. Consequentially there isn’t much competition either, and what talent you’ll find has banded together under the name Dance Robots Dance, a self-proclaimed “international DJ collective based out of the unlikely state of Oklahoma.” DRD hosts a hugely successful dance party called Robotic every Wednesday at Kamps in Oklahoma City. While it might not seem so superficially, this is a lesson every artist would do well to learn: If you can’t find a home for the art you create, then build one.

I spoke with John shortly after he’d finished producing a few tracks for the upcoming Kill Hannah album, Wake Up the Sleepers, and discussed Trash Yourself, what makes a “good” DJ, his influences and getting the hell out of Oklahoma.

“Oklahoma isn’t a great place to network for dance music.”

Julie M. Tate: Since the majority of us only spend time on the dance floor and not behind the tables we only have one side of the party. What prompted you to start remixing/producing?

John Bourke: Just loved the music. Pretty much as simple as that. I loved electronic sounds and wanted to figure out how to make them.

JMT: Describe your first DJ set.

JB: Man, I can’t even remember. I did some Live PA and band stuff before DJing. But the first one I can remember was at this club Sanctuary in OKC that (DJ and Rise Up Productions founder) Unadave was running. I was playing breaks at the time with (Sanctuary resident) DJ Phenom. We had been producing music and then he invited me to DJ with him. I didn’t really know the mixer that I was using but I made my way through it with maybe a bad mix or two.

JMT: As far as DJ’s go, you’re not necessarily “unknown.” Warner Brothers has licensed your music for the Matrix DVD box set and Capcom has licensed your music for Final Fight: Streetwise. Do you make certain songs to cater to outlets like this and others for the dance floor, or do corporations generally come to you?

JB: Anything I have done licensing-wise was in a situation where they approached me to license a song. I haven’t ever really made music specifically with film or TV in mind—I’ve just been lucky enough where someone thought it fit their format and sent me an email.

JMT: With acts like the Shiny Toy Guns and the infamous Flaming Lips, Oklahoma has seen its share of talent succeed outside these southern walls. For electronic/experimental acts do you think it’s wise to aim for the outside market or try and build around a relatively untapped market here in this state?

JB: Well, its sounds so cliché now but with the internet you can really do anything from anywhere. Oklahoma is a great place to live and write but there’s a plateau here—you can’t network and meet people that are excited to help you build your career. You really have to get out of here every once in a while to network. Oklahoma isn’t a great place to network for dance music.

JMT: Did it take long to “come up” in the scene here? Although you’ve been DJing for eight years, your band Trash Yourself is still relatively new. Was it easier because of said market or more difficult because it isn’t as promoted in Oklahoma?

JB: We still haven’t ever played a Trash Yourself show in Oklahoma City. Kinda weird I guess. We play all over the country, but there hasn’t been an occasion here that’s been appropriate I guess. We usually only do really crazy electro parties or large events like massive raves. It’s almost easier in a sense for people in other cities to dig on what you do.

JMT: Trash Yourself has gained recognition from SXSW to playing the 4-year anniversary at Chicago’s Debonair Social Club. How do gigs like those generally come about? They aren’t exactly low profile.

JB: A lot of it is just traveling and talking to people. There is a lot to be said for meeting people face to face. We kind of have a good rep from throwing parties in OKC. A lot of people know me from that. Hopefully people enjoy the music also and that’s why they call on me to play their party.

“It is important to be surrounded by people that know more than you at your craft.”

JMT: You’ve co-authored songs for the Shiny Toy Guns and currently have wrapped up production on some songs for the new Kill Hannah album coming out in September. How was that experience?

JB: Chicago was great! I had a lot of fun with all the guys. The studio we worked in was amazing. It was a legit major studio. (Chicago Recording Company) Smashing Pumpkins recorded their albums there so we were in the rooms that songs like “1979” and “Tonight, Tonight” were recorded in. It was very inspiring, I learned a lot from the experience. I hung out with Shiny Toy Guns in LA when they were recording their last album at NRG studios. That was pretty rad too. It is important to be surrounded by people that know more than you at your craft. That’s one thing that’s been hard about living in Oklahoma—there isn’t much of an artist community for musicians.

JMT: How does producing other artist’s music differ from producing your own? Aren’t you working on the debut record for Trash Yourself?

JB: Well for the Kill Hannah project. The singer Mat (Devine, lead vocalist) had the songs written but only had demo mixes. There were just really roughly made on a keyboard with few tracks, and a rough vocal. My job was to recreate the parts but with updated sound and feel. So it was more polishing everything, detailing, and adding textures rather than writing. I tried to keep the integrity of what Kill Hannah wanted. Greg (Corner, bassist) sat in on several sessions with me so that I knew it was going in the right direction. With Trash Yourself, I just kinda do whatever the hell loud noisy music I want.

(For a preview of John’s work in the studio with Kill Hannah, download the track “New York City Speed” from their upcoming album Wake Up the Sleepers HERE. You can also download John’s remix of “Crazy Angel” from the album Until There’s Nothing Left of Us, HERE. Links used with permission.)

JMT: You’ve worked on more than one occasion with wunderkind the Toxic Avenger, a self-proclaimed fan of Weezer and The Smiths. His history also includes playing in various punk and hardcore bands throughout the years. Do any of your influences fall outside the electro/dance scene?

JB: Yeah, definitely. My roots are industrial from when I was like 15 or so. I was a big NIN fan. Unfortunately I don’t have much time to listen to music other than dance music right now. I did just get the M83 album Saturdays = Youth, which I love. Chad (Petree, guitarist/vocalist) from Shiny Toy Guns made me get it. I suggest all of you do too. My next project will probably be a band that falls somewhere in between Cut Copy and M83.

“…maybe you don’t have to be on MTV anymore. There are other ways to gain fans now.”

JMT: The DJ/house culture has been around for years and sometimes is responsible for launching a sub-par song into the mainstream. That being said, do you feel the scene could get/needs more recognition or is it doing fine with the momentum thus far?

JB: I think with people like the Crookers blowing up and having their remix of Day N Nite played everywhere, things are going pretty good. That’s an example of what a remix can do. That remix was everywhere. It got so big it eventually made the original popular about a year later. When I was in Chicago Crookers played at a theater there and had over 3,000 people come out. Other major rock acts weren’t getting that many people there. Just shows that maybe you don’t have to be on MTV anymore. There are other ways to gain fans now.

JMT: Speaking of the popularity of remixing, so-called “DJ Schools” like DubSpot in NYC have reportedly seen a major increase in enrollment, in part due to the recession and partly due to the fact it’s “hip” at the moment to be a DJ. I think the mainstream consensus is if you own a CD collection you can DJ as well. Do you believe someone can be “taught” to be a good DJ?

JB: Teaching helps, but I don’t think its at all necessary. If you want to learn something you will learn. It is really as simple as that. There are so many videos on Youtube, and magazines that teach you anything anymore. Almost everything I know about engineering audio is from the internet and mags at Barnes and Noble. There’s no secrets anymore. This is the Information Age.

JMT: While you still regularly hold down DJ sets at Robotic in OKC, are you trying to make a move as well? Heidi splits time between NYC and OKC, and Fellow Robotic DJ Joshua Distance has already made the move to Austin, TX.

JB: I’m definitely ready to move. I need a change of pace. Either LA or NYC…or both. I just have a few things I’m trying to take care of here first. I fly a lot though, so I’ll always be making stops in OKC.

(John Bourke is currently on tour. For a list of tour dates click below or visit any of the following sites: !Trash Yourself on Myspace, John Bourke on Myspace or John Bourke on Twitter)

Continue Reading…

I just need the airfare and I’m gone: [Blessed with Lucky 7's]

[If you don't know what the "airfare" posts are about, please see this description.]

Being sober is a funny thing. I used to do drugs. I mean, a lot of them. Any of them. Probably all of them. I still miss ecstasy. Every once in a while I’ll reminisce then regret it in the morning. Getting wasted is overrated but if you haven’t done it you don’t know what you’re missing. I’ll probably talk more about this later. But for now, back to the point.

Like any drug, no matter how often you do it, the come down always sucks. Tour is no different. Your body gets used to the grind, the drive, the adrenaline. For anyone who’s tried their hand at sobriety you know how difficult it is. Sure, the first few days it feels just like heaven to sleep, shower and hear yourself think…then it hits: you aren’t going anywhere for awhile. It’s like your supplier was just incarcerated for an indefinite amount of time. Your skin starts to itch. Your anxiety goes through the roof. After a couple of months you’re dying. Let’s just fucking GO. Get the hell out.

Despite how much I enjoy getting away for a couple of days every other week and then coming back, I always leave whatever city [except Birmingham] with a sense of longing–you want to stay inside the feeling, the experience. It’s why people shoot heroin 10 times a day. You don’t WANT it to go away. But it always does. It’s a story that’s been told a hundred times before.

Oklahoma City, OK, July 6th, 2009

Hotel: none

Budget after initial costs: $211

Other Attractions: Lacuna Coil and Kill Hannah at the Diamond Ballroom [OKC], Jeremy Dawson and his storm chasing van

Oklahoma City really doesn’t have much to offer. So there’s not much to say. The Diamond Ballroom is a tin-can off the interstate in the middle of nowhere surrounded by rusting 18-wheelers and gravel. However, you can still smoke inside, which is more than I can say for 90% of the venues/bars I visit these days. That’s a plus, I suppose. I didn’t bother with a hotel since I’m staying in Tulsa, at the moment.

The show in OKC was the kick-off in an almost month-long jog between Lacuna Coil and Kill Hannah. I’ve been listening to Lacuna Coil since I was in high school years ago and was excited to see them live. Although, like meeting people in person, sometimes that can disappoint you. The vocal mix sounded terrible, among other things. The idea of Lacuna Coil still excites me however and I’ll still listen regardless.

Kill Hannah debuted new touring guitarist Gil Baram along with a host of songs from their upcoming album, tentatively titled Wake Up the Sleepers. [A line from one of the new songs they've been playing called "Strobe Lights," which, by the way, is an infectious mess of guitar-gasms, dance beats and catchy everything.] There were very few breaks in the set’s energy and for a first show with a new member I’ve definitely seen worse. My money is still on the re-worked version of “New York City Speed” which even had the plethora of Hot Topic goths bobbing their heads.

Openers Dommin were fun–some weird mix of Depeche Mode, Joy Division, Voltaire, The 69-Eyes and, occasionally, the vocals reminded me of early 90′s Tool. Their song “Dark Holiday” from the Dommin EP sounds like they’re playing a saloon in Hell. I believe I invented a dance called the “goth shuffle” for their set. I talked with their bassist, Billy, for a long time over a few cigarettes and we attempted to answer the ongoing debate: The Cure Vs. Depeche Mode [I won't say which side I'm on.]

Seventh Void are knitted together using members of Type O Negative and Inhuman, and were the other opening band on the bill. While I didn’t enjoy them at all they seemed to garner a sizeable reaction from the crowd in OKC. That’s probably because while the entire country is blanketed in shitty Staind-esq rock, OKC has a larger concentration than most.

After I had an amusing back and forth over wine and leftover lamb. FYI, two words a boy in a band never wants to hear are these: blood disorder.

Instead of hitting the bar 30 fucking minutes away I opted to head home. I’m getting old, apparently.

Kansas City, MO, July 7th, 2009

Hotel: The Q[uarterage] Hotel

Budget after initial costs: $176

Other attractions: Lacuna Coil and Kill Hannah at the Beaumont Club,  The Riot Room, some gas station on I-35

The Q Hotel in is arguably the nicest hotel in the city. It makes a true effort to be eco-friendly and it’s standard amenities include almond-scented Aveda products which is a complete win. Aveda is one of my favorite bath and body lines, with natural ingredients that usually smell amazing. The rooms had very clean looks, bright greens, blues and whites, hi-def TV’s and more mirrors than I knew what to do with. The coffee bar downstairs was decent and there was a little bookshelf with a sign that said “Need a book? Take a book. Have a book? Give a book.” Which nearly melted my little black heart. I left some swag on the shelves. Who knows where it’s all at now. Their front desk staff was very friendly and the on-site spa looked a little creepy but regardless it’s always nice to have a massage option before doing any heavy partying.

Each band had a tighter set in Kansas City and was the exact same from the night before. I spent most of my time catching up with everyone I’d missed so dearly in the last few months. You never get enough time but, hey, that’s tour. You take what you can get, when you can get it. It’s a given rule. I even met an extremely nervous girl who stopped me just to say she read my site. I was flattered and gave her some stickers and buttons for her courage.

As I stood outside during Seventh Void, the crowd was not so friendly however, as most of the smokers going in and out were trying to escape their set.

After the show we went to the Riot Room for some band I thankfully missed after a detour back to the hotel. I was accused of starting the night off right with Patrón shots for myself and Gil, and I might or might not plead the 5th. Gil’s a fucking firecracker on and off stage. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t in bed until 5:30a.m., even though I had to be up at 9a.m. to hit the road home. Completely fucking worth it.

Check back in the next few days–I just so happen to have an interview with Gil Baram coming your way. [I'm still editing the John Bourke interview. It'll be live soon, promise.]

P.S. There are a lot of things that get left out in between the words. It’s like a cryptogram. Whether it’s shame or selfishness there are some things that must be left unsaid, to be mulled over on your own. You fall in love with it, every bit, even the bad parts. Even if you want to scream your entire story to the waiting universe sometimes, well sometimes dear orphans, you just can’t find the words. It is yours.

Common Line magazine, BETA-FLAIR & placebo battle for hope.

First and foremost, an announcement: As of yesterday I was offered the literary/music editor position for Common Line magazine! The editors, founder Ananda Osel and managing editor Vanessa K. Wilken have been very cool in communicating with me over these last few weeks. They’ve decided to pick up my review for Placebo‘s new album, Battle For the Sun, for their Summer 2009 issue. I’ll keep you updated on the street dates! Needless to say I’m extremely excited and can’t wait to flex my creative wings a little. Being so wrapped up in poetry and flash fiction, I forget there is an entire world out there I used to dabble in, namely, editing and interviewing. I’ve already started to interview artists and musicians again, as evidenced by my three-part interview with New York based singer/songwriter Jessica Allyn (which you should have ready by now. If not, kindly visit parts one, two and three) and am currently in the process of interviewing John Bourke, DJ and one-half of the band Trash Yourself! out of Oklahoma City. (Which, by the way, I’m fucking stoked to write. Trash Yourself! know how to have a killer time. I’ve been lucky enough to attend after-parties they’e promoted for bands like the Shiny Toy Guns and if memory loss is any indication, they’re fucking skilled. Believe it.) I also have an interview lined up with The Debutante Massacre out of Columbus, Georgia so check back for updates on all of those delicious morsels of written delicacies. You know I’ll whore them out to your greedy eyeballs.

I’ve been making a concentrated effort to get back into freelancing because I don’t feel like I can create enough. It will be nice to visit different creative wells. I think it helps my poetry and fiction, honestly.

Secondly I’ve gotten off my ass and written not one, not two but three flash fiction pieces for Quick Fiction, one of my new favorite journals. The artwork is amazing and it can fit inside your purse! It’s one of the very few journals specializing in flash fiction, a genre which, in my opinion is neglected. It isn’t poetry, it isn’t quite prose, it isn’t a short story in the truest sense of the term–it’s something else. To me, flash fiction is a written photograph. It’s basically what I try and do with my poetry only I have a bit more wiggle room. So, I’ll keep you updated on that process as well. Fingers crossed, status still says “pending” which isn’t “rejected” so there’s still hope.

ALSO, the upcoming theme for Cram, Volume 6 is the “Uncensored Edition,” and you bet your ass I submitted. That little journal is quickly becoming one of my favorite homes. CJ Laity and Co. always do a fantastic job of promoting new talent and have a true love of the art.

Haven’t heard back from Boulevard Magazine or the Nimrod Literary Journal, which can be good or bad depending. If you’ve made it they usually inform you fairly quickly after the deadline close. If not, they send you a convenient little card in the mail that usually starts with, “Dear poet, while your work was a quality submission we regret to inform you…” and ends with, “but do try us again next year!” Ad nauseum.

The first round of beta-merch has been sent to a handful of lucky people who participated in my button giveaways via Facebook, Myspace and Twitter. If you’re reading, lucky recipients, do take pictures of you wearing your merch (scandalous pictures are fine and even encouraged) and send them in so I can put them up on the brand new [VISUALS] page! (Oh yeah, CHECK THAT SHIT OUT.) Thanks again for participating! I’m still not sure if I’ll keep all the designs but they had to be tried out on someone, welcome to my experiment! New buttons and stickers on their way to me as I type.

Lastly in this long ass update I’ve received all the materials for the chapbooks about to hit the merch store…as soon as I’m done hand making them. I’m thinking this run will be extremely limited, roughly 20 or so, until I see what demand is going to look like. Remember, these are all HAND-MADE by me. Each one will be completely unique and feature all of the work I’ve had published thus far plus a few extras for the hardcore fan, pictures, introductions and will come packaged with bits of clove and dead flowers. (True story, ask anyone who just received their buttons.) Many of you have been asking “what the fuck happened to the t-shirts” and all I can say is I’m sorry but they’re going to have to wait until I can cough up the $300 (and then some) to order them, then find time to make each one of them, again, BY HAND. Though I’ve been accused of being a rockstar (or, even more amusing, fucking a rockstar[s]) (may or may not be true), I don’t make rockstar pay.

Currently, in another window, I’m working on a pitch for The Frisky which, is harder than writing the fucking article itself. I’m optimistic however. I’m determined for this to be an excellent year.

I have a small, much-needed get away next month and a ton of work on my plate. It feels good though. I finally feel like I’m headed in the right direction.

(For finishing this entire entry, click below to view Placebo’s video for their first single from Battle For the Sun, “For What it’s Worth.” Your nether regions will thank you.)

Continue Reading…

i just need the airfare [&] i’m gone: [i'm fucking human, i have to LIVE! oh don't be afraid, 'cos you're a rockstar.]

A few months ago I was sitting in Joplin, Missouri at Waffle House with Seattle-based band Aiden. They had just played a show to less than a handful of people and now were militantly devouring food ordered 15 minutes prior. We received the full rock star treatment: As much grape jelly as we could ask for, luxurious smoking settings, cheese on our hash browns and grits made any way we liked them. At one point I looked at wiL sitting across from me and said:

“Welcome to the rock star life.”

It’s filthy glamor, tight schedules, endless itineraries and bruised egos. Your brain 10 miles ahead, already considering the next venue, per diem and hand-job in a  dark bar booth after the show. Aiden weren’t driving the 4 hours home like I was, they were headed somewhere toward the west coast, but all of us had jobs to attend, uniforms to look forward to: Khaki pants, pearl necklaces, eye liner, t-shirts, black polos, names on your sleeve. Worn tires, broken strings and hearts, the blank canvas of a hundred b-b-b boys and girls all saying the same thing: “Man you’re pretty cool.” The same look of expectation to deliver.

I’ve tried to find a way to mitigate the civilian and the “celebrity.” To embrace both the artistic and scientific .  To try and meet them in the middle. In an effort to achieve this [and in an attempt to keep my sanity] I’ve developed a jetsetting system fueled by mania and a desperate need to escape.

History lesson: I work for a bar that charges tax. Yes, tax on booze. So instead of your beer being $3.00, it’s $3.26. Because of this I usually end up with loads of change after my shift. I save said change in Crown Royal bags stacked against the wall and use it to fund last-minute jetsets and boutique hotel stays. This way nothing really comes out of pocket and I have challenges set before the plane even takes off. How much will I have to work with? How can I manage  round-trip airfare and a four-star hotel in Seattle for $300? It takes practice but I’m quite skilled.

There is also something entirely appealing about the idea of someone treating you like you’re “somebody” when you’ve literally counted pennies to afford their services. Whether you’re on the stage or in front of it, the lesson is simple: Work it.

My rules go something like this:

• * Pay for the jetset using only change, no cash out of pocket.
• * Hotel must be 3-star or better. [3-star in smaller cities, 4-star in large cities]
• * If possible, upgrade to first class, but economy is acceptable. [Any airline.]
• * The more amenities the better.
• * Bonus if room service/shopping is paid for with change as well.
• * The jetset can’t last longer than a couple of days. The idea of jetsetting is to get in and back out quickly. [Much like sex.]

Here I’ve outlined a couple notes from a few of these I’ve set sail on in the last year. Obviously Chicago is my favorite destination and as I’m still working around a murderous schedule full of slinging alcohol, conducting interviews, editing, submitting and publishing, my time, even for a few days, is limited. So as of late I’ve been trying to kill two birds with one stone by scheduling these at the same time friends are playing shows. [Defeats the purpose of a true "jetset" but I only have so much to work with.]

How is this related to poetry you ask? It keeps me arguably more sane than my medication does and I’ve written at least one decent poem on each of them. Everyone in the world needs to become more road-tested. It’s such a bonus to living. I’m helping you realize why.

Chicago, December 24th-26th, 2007

Hotel: The W Lakeshore

Budget after initial costs: $89

Other attractions: Kill Hannah at Subterranean, Kill Hannah at The Vic Theatre, hosted party at Smart Bar [FYI: if you haven't been to a party hosted by Paul in Chicago you haven't fucking partied in Chicago], loft party at address unknown because I was way too loaded to remember

By far my favorite hotel in Chicago so far. The W Lakeshore is now the proud setting of many of my recurring fantasies. One day I will have a dangerous and delicious tryst on one of their feather-top mattresses. I have poems written on their stationary tacked to my wall. The rooms are equipped with a privacy divider between the open bathroom and beds, as well as lemon-sage Bliss shampoo, conditioner, body wash and lotion. Their spa is hands down one of the best I’ve experienced. On-site everything: pool, jacuzzi, store etc. My only two small complaints about the W Lakeshore is that their location makes travel a bit difficult and their room service meals aren’t the greatest, however the view alone is worth the cost of admission:

Their concierge service–perfect. Twice cut blow and a Russian housewife with blonde hair, one blue eye and one green? Done. A double cheeseburger from McDonald’s and a $72 bottle of Earthquake Cabernet at 4am? Done. They could do anything. Like Jesus, only you paid with cash, not blood. Early check-in’s/late check-out’s were not a problem.

The Kill Hannah shows were refreshing, as at the time they were in the process of a very messy yet satisfying divorce from Atlantic Records. The show at Sub-T was a nice lovemaking compared to the orgy that was the Vic. The afterparties at Debonair and Sonotheque were a typical blur, the after-after parties even more so. The next night at Smart Bar was off to a slow start until about midnight when I forget most of what happened. There was dancing. There were many, many shots. There was a loft owned by a con-artist and a wonderful rooftop view of the city. We had a white christmas.

Chicago, December 3rd-4th, 2008

Hotel: The Hyatt Regency: Chicago

Budget after initial cost: $200

Other attractions: Amanda Palmer at the Metro, attempted party at Debonair Social Club, copious amounts of room service

As far as chains go, the Hyatt Chicago is one of the nicest ones. I’ve found that when I book with chain hotels the feel tends to get a bit sterile no matter the city. But they were accommodating enough and their grilled cheese from the late night menu was the BEST I’ve ever had. No lie. In fact the entire room service menu was stellar. I also had a wonderful italian dish with tofu chicken that was splendid. I felt awful that I’d taken two Vicodin just prior to eating and fell asleep shortly after the food arrived. I remember I was violently ill for most of this trip but the staff was friendly and let me stand next to the door and smoke to avoid the freezing rain. Amenities included an orange-ginger line of shampoos and soaps [can't remember the brand] and 52-inch flat-panel TV’s. The downtown view was pretty killer as well:

The Metro were pretty fierce about enforcing their curfew, as they always are, but the hotel was located close enough that it didn’t become an issue. The security guard working that night outed me, telling Amanda she’d watched me cry from the balcony the entire evening. Amanda kissed me. All was well with the world. She was touring with the Danger Ensamble at the time and every song had an exclamation point behind it. Lots of smiles, energy and solidarity.

I wasn’t ready for the show, honestly. Not physically, not emotionally. I knew the sort of strength it would take to go, to prepare for that catharsis. I’d been struggling with a re-emerging back injury for a few months  that left me immobile for awhile. This gave way to infections and lethargy. I’d wound up in the ER just prior to flying out and my emotions were a bit scattered and dark. I flew to Chicago in a very delicate state but, as the children of the Zodiac are wont to do, I went ahead anyway.

The show hit you physically, full on. The opening lines of “Astronaut” nearly knocked me over. The acoustics of the Metro are amazing. The performance outlined the sacrifices one must make to get to the next city, because deep down you know someone has been waiting their whole life for their moment with you, the songs and the stage–that in those things, in that time, you can change their life, remind them they can feel, TEACH them how to feel, inspire them to keep searching for that peace.

Returned to my room, ordered an $11 pint of cherry-vanilla Häagen-Dazs and a $15 glass of Merlot and fell asleep with the windows wide open. Late-check out was no problem.

Birmingham, Alabama, March 24th-25th, 2009

Hotel: The Sheraton Birmingham

Budget after initial cost: $300

Other attractions: Amanda Palmer at Workplay, sauna, jacuzzi

The Sheraton was the nicest hotel I could find in Birmingham and the staff were extremely rude and unhelpful. Their pricey on-site spa, Je Spa, never responded even though I called ahead. [I would have linked to them, though I found their site to be extremely unhelpful, but their site has been mysteriously taken down.] I asked the concierge to find me a decent spa within a reasonable distance from the hotel. Even after checking “the Google” she informed me she couldn’t “fill my request.” So much of the building was under construction I was walking through concrete dust every 10 feet. There were basically two wings: the shitty-under-construction wing [Atrium] and the executive you’re-staying-here-for-a-week-and-paying-$1000-a-night wing [Tower].

On the plus side their room service menu was decent, with a nice wine selection and some of the best red velvet cake I’ve ever had. The breakfast was also amazing. Their standard amenities were mediocre and I opted to use my own products instead. The pool and jacuzzi were quiet for my entire stay and the sauna was perfect for doing extreme yoga in the morning.

Workplay was a mediocre venue though thank god you could still smoke inside. Their bartender was a dick. He informed me that because I was a “Yankee” I automatically received shittier treatment. I thought he was joking until he actually, you know, served me. What the hell? I still tipped even though he kept a shotgun on the wall next to a picture of his sister and smelled like home fries. Fuck you.

I managed to meet a few nice people but mostly I could have done without–which is odd for an Amanda Palmer/Dresden Dolls crowd, I usually find them very inviting.

The show itself seemed a bit forced–Amanda was still in the middle of an extreme emotional roller coaster between her personal life, professional career and record label. She was alone on stage, no longer surrounded by the literal orchestra from December, radiance rapidly diminishing.  She spent a good portion of the show on her Blackberry twittering and checking text messages. [Which would have been fine if it'd served as a better distraction to me personally, but really just irritated me.] When she did perform she gave everything she had, as she always does. She was angry and it dripped from the stage; sure as her hair was dirty and her voice was shot. The set list was a repeat from December. Yet in stark contrast to the bright white of the Chicago was the bleak grey of this–each song covered in desperation and thinness. I raised my arms in the hope that should she fall, I might be able to catch her.

Between the emotional drain of the show and my terrible health, by the time I returned to my room I was dizzy. I fell asleep sitting up watching Judge Judy re-runs. Early check-in and a late check-out wasn’t a problem. I’ve found that in this terrible economy these things tend to be easier since there’s no one there to fill up the rooms anyway.

Chicago, May 29th-31st, 2009

Hotel: The Hotel Monaco

Budget after initial costs: $600

Other attractions: Kill Hannah/Nine Inch Nails afterparty at the Double Door, Dark Wave Disco at Crobar, shopping on Michigan Avenue [H & M, Coach and Water Tower Place], shopping on Belmont [The Alley], new tattoo at Windy City Ink, the Pick-Me-Up cafe, self-reflection on the Ferris Wheel, fireworks over Navy Pier

I was excited about the Hotel Monaco. I really was. The boutique-y style was endearing, the amenities seemed nice and they offered a complimentary goldfish [!!!] upon request to your room:

I remained excited even as I opened the door to my room, finding leopard print bathrobes [again, !!!] and a feather bed to die for. The bathroom seemed a little small and quite mediocre for such a nice hotel. I passed out being beat the fuck up from a 6 a.m. flight and two days worth of sleepless nights.

I scanned the room service menu upon waking and found it not only to be extremely limited in what they offered but also the hours they offered it. They were rude [and, frankly, ignorant] when I called and ask if they could accommodate my dietary needs. [I'm a vegetarian who avoids fried foods and refined carbs and sugars.] They had an on-site restaurant in conjunction to the room service kitchen and neither one seemed to understand the concept of putting butter, bread and cheese on a grill after I’d exhausted my other options. They did have a grilled vegetable panini which sounded entirely unappetizing but I’m quite sure they failed to understand how this could be possible. I spent most of my time either not eating, having pizza or hitting the 7-11 across the street at 4 a.m.

The turn-down service was nice and they had huge fizzy bath balls to put in your bathwater, which I took advantage of even at $7 a hit. The aromatherapy was relaxing.

The view, however, was not. I had a spectacular shot of an enclosed rooftop and piegon shit. The hotel’s location was perfect, just one block off Michigan Avenue and their after hours front desk/door staff were super nice and helpful. Their concierge however, was not. He was a short, squat man who spent most of his time sitting in a velvet chair and not helping me when I called to ask where there was a nearby tobacco shop that sold Nat Sherman Ultra cigarettes. It took him 3 seconds to tell me “he didn’t know” but, thanks to the door man downstairs, I found one a few blocks down.

There was a hosted wine reception before the after party which looked more elegant than I expected. After, the Double Door was, well, the Double Door and Kill Hannah debuted some new material from their upcoming, as-yet-untitled album due in August. They were obviously studio-weary yet eager to beta test some of their work on a live audience. The crowd was typical: the same people backstage, in front of the stage and side stage, with Jonny being a noteable exception. This was a very, very last minute trip and there were a lot of familiar faces. Some of the new mixes sounded good, courtsey of John Bourke of Trash Yourself! out of Oklahoma City.

After that was a short, not-so-sweet swing by Crobar for the after-after what-the-fuck-ever with Dark Wave Disco before back to Monaco to pass out in a pint of coffee flavored Häagen-Dazs. [Literally.] The rest of the weekend was a blur of train riding, shopping and tattooing [courtesy of Gary Parisi of Windy City Ink - stellar people, stellar work].

Early check-in’s and late check-out’s were not a problem, neither was holding my bags from 12 p.m. – 5 p.m. But by far my biggest complaint about this hotel was their epic fuck up in withholding nearly quadruple the amont of deposit they were supposed to for incidentals. Even though I told them twice I’d already paid for the room they held my room cost plus the deposit, then after I’d angrily pointed out their mistake, informed me that since it was a weekend I likely wouldn’t get my money back until at least the following Wednesday, therefore stamping a “royally fucked” over my large shopping plans.

Next up? Seattle and possibly St. Louis. This long ass update brought to you by: coffee, cigarettes and bitterness.

[In short: I'M FUCKING HUMAN, I HAVE TO LIVE!]